


The Problem With Long Hair

by nogood_nobody



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Impa has more of a cameo than anything, Long hair is a nightmare, Zelda is re-learning that the hard way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 10:51:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nogood_nobody/pseuds/nogood_nobody
Summary: Zelda has always had long hair, but she's starting to think that it's more trouble than it's worth.





	The Problem With Long Hair

**Author's Note:**

> As a girl that went from somewhat long hair to super short hair lemme tell y'all I screamed when I saw that trailer. And lemme also say I know how nice it is once all that hair is off your head.

The first time Zelda realized how bothersome her hair could be was immediately after the fall of Calamity Ganon.

Actually, that was a lie. She had been bothered by it many times in the past, but one hundred years of being locked in a life or death struggle dampened the memories. Now, on the way to Wetland Stable after the end of that long battle, the memories reasserted themselves.

Her and Links’ reunion had been rather brief. He remembered her, yes, but not as much as she had hoped. He had fragments of memories, shards of the past.

“Snapshots,” He had said with a small smile and laugh. She laughed as well, weaker than it should have been -pained maybe, though she tried to hide it- but relieved nonetheless. More would come back, she hoped. Or maybe not. Maybe there were only new memories to look forward to now.

She wanted to pry, to figure out exactly what he remembered, what pictures helped him, but it wasn’t the time. Though Link stood strong -as he always had- Zelda could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the scorch marks on his clothing, and acutely felt the past one hundred years of battle settling into her bones. So, they mounted Link’s horse, a beautiful chestnut mare with a white mane -Epona, he named her, for it seemed to fit. And Zelda could have laughed, had it not seemed cruel to do so- and headed East.

They started at a leisurely trot, but sped up soon after at Zelda’s request. It had been too long since she had felt the wind whip past her face, felt a horse gallop beneath her as they tore through open fields to get to the main road. With the sun beaming on her face, the scenery flying by them, her hands gripping tightly to Link’s tunic, Zelda laughed, free and open in a way she could not recall doing since well before Calamity Ganon had struck.

And was rewarded with a mouth full of her own hair from a stray gust of wind for her levity. 

She sputtered, her laugh cutting off into a rather unflattering sound -something between a squeal and a gag- and began pulling the strands away from her face and out of her mouth, grimacing in disgust as she felt some hairs still stuck to her tongue. Link had slowed down at her strange yelp, and twisted in the saddle to look, concern on his face. It quickly turned to laughter, poorly hidden, at the sight of her bright red face and Lynel’s mane of hair.

“Oh, be quiet.” She muttered, trying desperately to pull her hair back over her shoulders while steadfastly avoiding eye contact.

“I didn’t say a word, Princess,” He answered turning back around, but not before Zelda caught a grin beginning to spread across his lips.

They maintained a trot for the rest of the journey, Zelda abandoning her hold on Link's tunic whenever the wind kicked up to try and hold her hair in place. 

* * *

The next time she found herself cursing her hair, she and Link were wandering through the forest Northeast of Kakariko Village, an old stomping ground of theirs back whenever they visited Impa so long ago. They did what they could to visit often now as they journeyed around Hyrule, though it hurt every time to see Impa, once so young and strong, look so old and frail. It was nice though, having someone with whom she could recount stories of the past with. Link’s memories returned steadily over the weeks and months they were together, but so much was still missing. Zelda hoped her and Impa’s stories helped fill in some blanks. One such memory, shared late in the evening before they all settled in for the night, involved a flower, a type she had not seen in far too long: The Silent Princess.

_ “You used to have a little lab upstairs,” _ Impa had recalled, _ “You always preferred bringing your findings back here instead of to the castle if you could.” _

_ “Father was never very approving of anything that didn’t involve prayer.” Zelda sighed. Even after so long the memories still hurt. His scorn, his anger. His loss. “Bringing samples here was easier. Quicker too, usually.” _

As her and Impa discussed her past research, Zelda had mourned never finding any of the flowers near the village.

_ “It would have been nice to have some nearby,” _ She had said, _ “I recall many samples I brought back being all but dead by the time I arrived here. Likewise when trying to get them back to the castle.” _

_ “There are some nearby.” Both women swung around to look at Link, who had been characteristically silent until this point. _

_ “What?” Zelda asked, sure she misheard. _

_ Link smiled. It was that smile he got whenever he made someone happy. She had seen it when he showed a small child in Hateno his Master Sword, a weapon the boy’s grandfather had never dreamed of seeing. She had seen it any time he gave Beedle a new beetle for his collection. She had seen it whenever he surprised her with her favorite fruitcake dessert. And maybe-certainly-it was her imagination, but whenever it was aimed at her, like now, it seemed just a bit wider. But that smile told her that no, she hadn’t misheard, and her grin spread so wide it hurt. _

That was last night. They headed into the woods as the sun rose, and that was where they were now, traipsing along to find the great fairy fountain with its small collection of Silent Princesses.

Or they would be, if her hair would stop getting caught on _ every blasted branch in the forest! _ Zelda stopped short, leaning her head back as she felt her hair get snagged on a protruding twig to keep it from getting pulled, and cursed. Vehemently. She spun around, all but tore the twig from her hair, and turned back to see Link staring back with a raised brow and playful smile.

“I certainly hope I’m not the one that taught you those words, Princess. Your father would have killed me.”

Zelda scoffed as she caught up, “No, you were very careful not to say anything too...corrupting, in my presence,” She grinned, “The librarians, however, could only censor my reading so much.” 

Link laughed at that, free and clear, and Zelda quickly joined. It was nice to laugh with him like this. There were no roles for them to play anymore, not really. He no longer needed to be her stoic, steadfast knight, and she no longer needed to be the calm, subdued princess. They were a hundred years separated from the Princess and the Hero. Now they were simply Zelda and Link. It was a nice thought to linger on as they continued through the trees, Zelda keeping a more careful eye on the reaching branches, while feeling just a pinch of jealousy as Link moved far more freely.

That pinch may or may not have gotten just a bit stronger when the fairy who lived in the spring greeted Link with a smothering hug and a kiss, but no one needed to know that. Instead, Zelda snapped her eyes to the small, white and blue petaled flowers that popped up around the spring’s edges, and all feelings besides complete joy fled from her.

The feeling lasted all the way back to Impa’s house, where they planted the flower in a small vase. It lasted through dinner as the group of them shared stories both old and new. It even lasted into the night, just before bed, when Link suddenly laughed, came up behind her, and plucked a small twig, leaf still attached, from her hair.

* * *

Zelda started thinking after that trek through the woods. She thought about Link waking up, rolling out of bed, and starting the day while she dragged a brush through perpetually knotted hair. She thought about having to wait _ hours _ for her hair to dry after a dip in a stream or a walk through a rainstorm. She caught herself staring into the water-or a mirror on the rare times they stayed in a house or stable-and wrapping her hair around her fist. More and more she’d take up each time, until it rested a bit below her ears, and she would think.

Link noticed, he noticed everything, but he never commented. Zelda wasn’t sure if she was grateful or disappointed.

* * *

The final straw came when they were ambushed on the road to Hateno. A group of bokoblins they had failed to spot leapt out from behind the brush, shrieking and flailing shoddy weapons. Zelda spun to get some distance, as she and Link had agreed on when they first began traveling together, while Link removed his sword and felled the first creature that came within range.

Zelda made to run for a large boulder -not far off the road, and good for cover- before her head snapped backwards and she let out a shriek as a bolt of pain zapped down her spine from her scalp. She fell, twisting and landing on her front before being dragged up to her knees by a grinning bokoblin, whose hand was firmly wrapped in the last several inches of her hair. The beast raised its other arm with a shriek, and-

_ Goddesses help her was she about to be bludgeoned to death with a bloody _farming tool?

She need not have worried of course. Before the hoe could begin its descent, the arm was neatly detached from the body with a flash of steel and a spatter of purple blood. The head was soon to follow, and the creature fell dead in front of her, fingers loosening their hold on her hair as she stared up at Link, surprised -almost frightened- by the look of pure _murder_ in his eyes. A shriek came from behind him, and Zelda watched as he dropped the Master Sword, spun while taking out his bow, and put an arrow neatly through the last remaining bokoblin’s head, its two friends already dead nearby.

He dropped to one knee, re-slinging his bow as he looked at her, concern apparent on every plane of his face.

“Are you ok?” He asked. Eyes looking her over for a moment for injuries before snapping back to her face.

Zelda took a few moments to just blink and breathe, gathering herself. Finally, she nodded, and averted her gaze with a quick, “I’m fine.” She suddenly registered a weight, light but obvious, tugging at her hair and glanced down.

The bokoblin’s fingers, while lax, remained tangled in the thick strands of her hair. It took a moment to process the image, but once she did, Zelda ripped her hair free and sprang to her feet, face burning hot as Link stayed kneeled, staring up at her.

“Zelda-” He started, before she cut him off.

“Let’s get to the village,” She said, starting up the path, sidestepping the bodies as she went, “It’s almost dusk,”. She heard Link stand, re-sheathe his sword, and fall into step behind her, wisely leaving her to stew in her frustrations.

* * *

It had been a quiet evening after the ambush, and a quiet morning the next day. Zelda stayed inside, sitting at the desk in the loft or pacing around the house. Link chose to linger outside, chopping wood, cleaning up the yard, and eventually just lounging by the fire. He finally decided to re-enter the house as the sun began to dip low on the horizon, almost dinner time. He walked in and, not seeing Zelda in the main area, went up to the loft. There, Zelda sat, staring contemplatively at a mirror in front of her. Catching Link’s eyes in the mirror, something in her face hardened, and she spun in her seat.

“Zelda, yesterday wasn't-”

“I want you to cut my hair.”

Link blinked once, twice, and the absolute bafflement on his face would have been funny at any other time.

“I-you-I’m sorry, _ what? _” He sputtered. 

Zelda nodded firmly. “I want it gone,” she said, spinning halfway in her chair she looked in the mirror, grabbing up her hair in a fist just below her ears.

“To about here, I think.”

“Zelda,” Link began, stepping forward, “If this is about yesterday, that wasn’t your fault. The bokoblin made a lucky grab. You couldn't control that.”

“You’re right,” She agreed, “It _wasn’t_ my fault. And I _couldn't_ control it then, but I can now. The fact is it wouldn't have been able to make a 'lucky grab' at all had I not had all this-this-” She shook her hair in her fist, “Blasted, cursed, _goddess damned hair_!” She finished, ripping her hand from her head and slamming it on the desk.

Behind her, Link still looked concerned, unconvinced. He was closer though, standing directly behind the chair, eyes flicking over her face, to her hair, and back again.

“Link,” Zelda said, voice now much calmer as she sighed, “I’ve thought about this extensively, not just since yesterday. I have kept my hair this long because it was expected of me. I was royalty; A _ Princess. _ Goddesses forbid a Princess have short hair of all things,” She laughed mirthlessly, her gaze moving to the wood desk in front of her. How tight a leash she had been on. How closely she had been scrutinized. “But obviously this hairstyle is woefully impractical for the life we lead. _ I want this._” She finished firmly, eyes moving back to Link’s. He sighed, looking down and shaking his head, but she saw the fond smile cross his face. He was all but convinced, but one last push couldn’t hurt.

“Besides,” She grinned mischievously, “If you say no I’ll simply do it myself.” Link’s head snapped up at that, eyes wide and alarmed. “And I think we both know how well that will turn out.” Link barked out a short laugh, no doubt imagining the same crooked mess of hair she was, and relented.

“Alright. If this is what you want, I’ll do it.”

“It is.” She nodded.

“Alright,” He nodded back. Then, a thoughtful look crossed his face. “We don’t have any scissors. And the only knives we have are for cooking, so they’re pretty dull.”

“Just use the Master Sword, there’s nothing sharper.” Zelda laughed, and Link gave an almost offended scoff.

“Princess, are you suggesting I use the sacred weapon bestowed upon us by the goddesses to _ cut your hair? _” He asked, a faux appalled look on his face.

Zelda’s eyes shifted from side to side before returning to his with a teasing smile, “Maybe?”

They both broke down into laughter, Link clutching the back of Zelda’s chair for support, fingers brushing against her shoulder. Finally, Link collected himself to stand upright and, through a few more chuckles, said “Wait here, I have a better idea.” And went downstairs, still laughing to himself. Zelda heard the soft clink of metal, like a weapon being taken off a rack, before Link returned to the loft. Zelda let out a small gasp. In his left hand, the Scimitar of the Seven gleamed proudly in the low light, just as keen as when Urbosa herself had sharpened it so long ago.

“I think she would have been honored to do this for you, don’t you?” He asked with a small smile.

Zelda let out a short laugh, cutting it off before it could break down into a sob.

“Oh she’d be so envious of you.” She said, blinking back tears. “Something so improper in the eyes of the court, Urbosa would have leapt at the chance.”

Link came to stand behind her once again as Zelda faced the mirror once more. Leaning the scimitar against the chair, he began gathering her hair in his hands, gently pulling it back and tucking it into one hand. Zelda was half tempted to shut her eyes, to enjoy the feeling of gentle fingers running through her hair, but she resisted. Might as well take in the sight of the long flowing waves of gold one last time.

Eventually, Link gathered up every strand, and held it near the base of her neck. He grabbed the scimitar, and held it a couple inches above that.

“Here?” He asked.

Zelda nodded. “There.”

“And you’re _ sure-” _

“Link,” She laughed, “Honestly!”

“Just double-checking,” He grinned, “Don’t want you breaking down in tears after this.”

“I _ would not- _”

“On three.” Her mouth snapped shut.

“One,” No more wind to whip her hair into her mouth.

“Two,” No more twigs to turn her head into a birds nest.

“Three.” No more lucky grabs.

The Scimitar of the Seven, so meticulously cared for, sheared through her hair as if it didn’t exist in the first place. The remaining hair fell, settling just under her ears in a simple bob, and she gasped, one hand coming up to cover her mouth. Behind her Link looked worried.

“What do you think?”

What _ did _she think? Her head felt lighter. She turned her head side to side, judging from different angles. Realizing how freely her head moved, she did it again, a bit faster, and watched as her hair swished gently with the movement. She laughed; A short, bubbling laugh that broke into elated giggles as she brought her hand up, running her fingers through her hair and marveling at how quickly they reached the ends. She spun to Link, who had been watching with a smile from near the window where the scimitar now rested and launched herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug that was quickly returned.

“I love it,” She laughed softly into his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He murmured next to her ear.

They held the embrace for a few moments before breaking off, matching smiles on their faces. Link’s grew as he got a better look at her.

“I think it suits you,” He said. “You look good.”

“I agree,” She laughed again, spinning in place just to enjoy the feeling.

“So, um,” She stopped, and looked at Link, who had an almost confused smile on his face. “What in Hylia’s name should I do with this?” He asked, holding up over a foot of cut hair in his right hand. 

Zelda blinked, blinked again, and said “I haven’t the faintest idea.” Before bursting into laughter, Link joining in almost immediately. Eventually they settled on simply throwing it in the fire, and then immediately regretted it as the smell of burnt hair permeated the air around their home.

* * *

They left Hateno Village the next day, eager to continue their journey through Hyrule. Many villagers stopped and stared as they walked down the street, taking in the sight of the young woman whose hair was _ definitely _ not that short yesterday, and Zelda had to fight to keep her grin contained. It became more difficult to do so when she caught Link glancing over at her every few minutes. _I __could get used to this_ she thought as they passed the village gate. And since she had already started to reinvent herself a bit…

“Teach me how to fight. ”


End file.
